Who Are You Howling For
by pieanddeductions
Summary: Following 3x06. Scott is uncertain and afraid and he won't tell anybody why. Isaac is damaged and broken and looking for something to hold onto. They don't understand each other- but that does not mean that they don't want to.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! So, I've been incredibly (and shamefully) silent on this site since finishing my Clockwork Princess story. Since then, I've sort of become obsessed with Teen Wolf- in particular, a shipping in Teen Wolf. In Even-More Particular, Scisaac. I absolutely love it so much, hence this fanfic. Let me know if you like this so far. If anyone A) reads it and B) actually likes it (in which case I will totally freak out), I'll probably continue this into a medium to long story with gradual development of Scisaac, possibly following canon events that occur in the episodes as they are released. This is set just after the end of 3x06, and it's pretty un-eventful. I really hope this isn't terrible! Please review **

Scott didn't know much about Isaac Lahey. Of course, that was probably owing to the simple fact that he hadn't spent much time getting to know the guy- and it wasn't like Isaac was a big one for conversations. Still, there was just something about him. Something about the way he _asked_ to be bitten when Derek offered. Scott remembered when he first got the bite- how completely _un_wanted it had been. How it had come- literally- out of nowhere, and how, even with Stiles going on and on about how he was some kind of super-freaky-werewolf now, all he'd cared about was going on a date with Allison. Even now, all he cared about was getting her back. Had Derek approached him- either now, or then, with that same offer that he had given Isaac- if Scott had been given the choice, there was not a doubt in his mind that his reply would consist of two words, and two words only: Hell No.

But Isaac was not Scott, and Isaac _had_ had the choice. And Isaac had said yes. There was something perplexing about that- something that kept chasing Scott's thoughts in circles even now as he sat in his room running his fingers through his hair in agitation, his English homework lying open on his desk, the empty pages guilt tripping him every now and then into writing a word or two before he would put his pen down in exasperation and just go back to thinking about the boy in the next room- who had chosen to be a werewolf, chosen to stay in Beacon Hills when Erica and Boyd would have fled, and, of all people, chosen to trust Scott- to come to _him_ in the middle of the night with his shirt dripping wet and his bag of things even worse.

His mum had been practically humming with worry ever since Isaac entered the door.

"Of course he can stay," she'd said at once when she was asked, and she'd given Isaac the Mothering Smile that Scott had seen her practicing in front of the mirror before. "You can have the guest room, Isaac. Let me know if there's anything you need- sheets missing on the bed, that kind of thing. I'm afraid I'm not at home a lot- I don't really do a lot of house-keeping as such." And then she had looked at Scott with wide eyes that said We'll Talk About This Later. As soon as she'd convinced Isaac to borrow some clothes of Scott's to sleep in and go have a shower, that's exactly what they did.

"Scott, who is that boy?" she'd asked him with none of her usual casual demeanor.

"A friend of mine. He's on the lacrosse team with me and Stiles," he shrugged, not wanting to let on any more than he had to- although, apart from the whole werewolf thing, Scott wondered what else he really _could_ say about Isaac Lahey.

"For goodness sake Scott, is this the boy whose father was murdered? The one they had at the police station a while back?"

"It's okay, mum. You know he didn't actually kill his dad, right? They were just asking him a few questions. He was cleared. I'm not asking you to harbour a fugitive here."

"That's not what I meant. Scott, his father- you do know what he did to him, don't you? He was…abusive. In the most barbaric ways possible, too. It's just awful. No child deserves to be raised in an environment like that, you know? He's probably traumatised," she said, and even though she was talking quietly, Scott cringed, knowing that Isaac could hear everything that was being said from the shower, even over the roaring water system. "Who has he been staying with since his father died? Do you know… but why is he here, then? He looked pretty shaken up when I answered the door, Scott."

_I know, _he'd thought, but he just put his hands on his mother's shoulders.

"He's alright. He'll be alright. I mean, some things might be going on with him, but… it's all I can do is have him over, right?"

Slowly, she gave him a smile. "Right. Yeah- you're right, Scott. I'm so proud of you, you know. I raised my son to be a good friend."

"Now you're taking credit for the way _I _treat my friends?" Scott rolled his eyes, trying to lighten the mood. Melissa smiled and shook her head, reaching over to ruffle his hair before she closed her eyes and sighed.

"I'm working the late shift again tonight. I'd better get going." Before she'd gone, she looked back at Scott over her shoulder and added, "tell Isaac to make himself at home, won't you?"

Since then, more or less, it seemed like he had. In the sense that he barely ever left his room. Like, ever. In the mornings Scott only saw Isaac right when he was heading out the door to go to school, and at night he barely saw him at all. In fact, with the exception of intercepting Scott on his way to risky-werewolf-oriented things, Scott didn't see Isaac around at all. Which was why, when he heard a knock on his door that night, he was surprised when he turned around to see Isaac, not his mother, standing in the doorway.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" Isaac asked. Scott stared at him for a moment, eyes darting back to his homework on the desk before he shook his head hastily, chuckling.

"Honestly, I'm glad for the interruption. My non-existent progress on this is getting sort of depressing," he said.

"Mine's the same- except it's math, so I doubt I'll even get credit for writing a couple of random words down."

"I don't even know what I've written there," Scott admitted, and Isaac moved forward, leaning over the desk to read, his head cocked to the side as he read out-loud, "_Allison, Allison…_ oh hey, look, it's _Allison _again." He smirked at Scott. "Very insightful. I'm sure Miss Blake will appreciate it."

"What does yours say, then?" Scott said, scrambling to tug his work away from Isaac before his cheeks got too red from embarrassment- but mostly before he could read the part where Scott realised he'd started to write down Isaac's own name- a consequence of the time he'd been spending wondering after Isaac, and the reasons he did the things he did. He tried to think of someone he could tease Isaac about. "_Boyd, Boyd, Boyd?" _He couldn't really think of anyone else- mainly because Isaac didn't seem to spend time with anyone else.

Isaac was too amused about Scott's predicament to care much, and he just shrugged.

"Anyway, um," Scott coughed, " was there… was there something you wanted to talk about?"

Isaac stopped smiling and looked at his feet. "Um, yeah. Yeah, there was."

"Alright," Scott said cautiously.

"At that Motel," Isaac began, "with the wolfsbane. All of us…we were all effected, yes? Boyd, Ethan, myself- and you."

Scott inclined his head.

"But you found the flares. I mean, none of the rest of us had thought of that, but you found them."

"Yeah, I guess I overheard Stiles and Lydia talking about it," he said.

"And you told me when we got back that that's all it was," Isaac continued, "that you went to find them because you overheard them and you had a feeling that it would snap you out of it. That Stiles found you, and you touched the heat, and you got better."

"Yeah." That was what Scott had told Isaac. With everything that had happened, and everything that he had felt and witnessed and been through that night, he figured thinking about it, much less talking about it, wasn't a good idea. There had been no reason to tell Isaac or Boyd or anyone that wasn't there how desperate he'd really felt- how close he'd really come, or how unsure he was, even now, of whether it had been the wolfsbane or his own conscience that had driven him to stand in the middle of the rain and the gasoline, a ticking time bomb in his hand.

Isaac looked at him then from under his lashes, his gaze unwavering. "I wanted to ask you if that was a lie."

Scott let go of a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding in, staring at Isaac and not knowing what he could possibly say.

"I, uh," he hesitated, "I'm fine, Isaac," he settled for that.

"That doesn't answer my question," he said, and then he sighed. "Stiles looked like he'd just seen a ghost or something, and Allison was practically crying when I got to the bus. I just want to know if something else happened. Or, if you lied to me, at least tell me why you lied...please, Scott."

Scott couldn't look at Isaac anymore, so he laced his fingers together in his lap and looked at them instead, suddenly fascinated by his own hands. For a long time, he was silent, because that was just another thing about Isaac. It was not that he was difficult to lie to- it's not like Scott couldn't have gotten away with it if he really wanted to. But there was something about him that made Scott not want to lie to him. Still, he didn't want to tell the truth, either.

"I have a question for you, too," he said slowly. Now Isaac was the one who was uneasy.

"What do you want to know?" his tone was guarded- guarded in the manner of a person who'd lived their life _needing_ to be guarded, _needing_ to be brief and mistrusting. Without meaning to, Scott said,

"I want to know why you do that. Why do you _sound_ like that- like I'm about to launch into some interrogation. Like I have a right to ask you questions, even though you asked me first?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do." Scott persisted.

"Well, so do you then," Isaac almost snapped. Reflexively, his hand went up to touch the skin underneath his eye before dropping it back to his side, abashed. Scott watched him, a tight knot in his stomach as he realised. His father. Even now he was dead, it was still his father.

"I'm not like that, Isaac. I'm not… bigger than you," he said, trying to be as reassuring as he could- and as honest. "I'm not going to try to make myself bigger than you."

"I know you're not," Isaac said briefly: factually, like there's nothing to it. "Guess old habits die hard. That's it. Will you answer my question now?"

"Yes."

"'yes' you will answer my question, or 'yes', you did lie?"

Scott swallowed hard. "Yes, I, uh, may have omitted certain things when I recapped what went on that night," he said sheepishly. He looked quickly at Isaac, dreading the look of betrayal on his face that he thought might have appeared there, but his expression was virtually unreadable. "Look, man, it wasn't…it's not that I don't trust you with the truth or whatever. It's nothing important, even- nothing that effects any of the rest of us, or the Alpha pack, any of it. It's just not something I want to relive all too much, so I sort of left out those details."

"Okay."

"Okay?" Scott said, unsure as to what 'Okay' meant when it was coming from Isaac.

"Yeah, Scott, it's okay," Isaac said, his voice unexpectedly gentle. He edged a little closer, clapping a hand a little awkwardly on his arm. "I get it. Thanks…y'know, for telling me that you lied, though."

"Sorry I lied in the first place," Scott said, feeling really quite guilty about it all now.

Isaac looked at him for a moment, and then he sighed. "I just want to know you're okay, man."

Scott was a little taken aback by that, but before he could say anything in response, Isaac's hand had left his arm, and his phone started vibrating like crazy in his pocket.

"Oh, uh, I should get that," he mumbled, gesturing to the phone as he drew it out, seeing Stiles on the caller ID. Isaac rolled his eyes. Obviously it was Stiles.

"Hello?" Scott answered the phone, eyes still drifting back to Isaac. Isaac who, according to his words not a moment ago, was worried for his welfare, despite everything that he himself was dealing with.

"_Scott. Thank god, dude. Listen, I need you over at my house, like, right now,"_ Stiles yell-whispered into the phone.

"Like, _now_ now? I'm kind of beat, to be honest, man." That, and this was the first proper conversation he'd had with Isaac for a while. He didn't want it to end just yet- especially after Isaac had just said the most curious thing. "What's going on?"

"_I don't know if this is good news or bad news…"_

"Stiles," Scott said. He glanced at Isaac, who was leaned against his bedroom wall, arms folded as he listened in to their conversation, interest peaked.

"_You know what Ethan said, about Derek probably being alive?"_

"Yeah, I mean, I hope he's right." Derek. Scott had barely gone five minutes without freaking out about that- hoping that Ethan was telling the truth, but then freaking out some more because even if he was, what chance did Derek have against the Alphas?

"_Huh. Good news it is then, I suppose- because 'probably' just became 'definitely'."_

Isaac and Scott looked at each other, eyes wide.  
'What?' Isaac mouthed at Scott, who just shook his head, bewildered.

"Hold on Stiles… did you just say Derek is alive?"

"_You heard me right_."

Scott froze, the static holding Stiles' voice echoing over again in his head, and his heart started beating euphorically fast with a relief that had him sinking back in his chair, eyes closed.

"_Scott? You hear me, buddy? Hello?" _Stiles mused into the phone.

"Scott," Isaac said, and Scott opened his eyes, shaking his head back into the moment.

"Uh, yeah- yeah I hear you," he said. "I'm just so…" he sighed, long and slow, and he damn near laughed into the phone before he started asking questions again. "Wait, how alive is he?"

"_Are we talking 'quality of life' or…?"_

Isaac snorted, and Scott said, "Stiles, you know what I mean. When did you see him- _did_ you even see him? Is he injured?" Another thought occurred to him, and he shuddered, "have the Alpha Pack got him?"

"_Calm down. The man's fine. Fine enough to give me a freaking heart attack when he showed up in the corner of my room just now. No visible injuries. He's pretty moody and insensitive, which is a sure sign that everything is A-O-kay in the world of Derek_." Scott couldn't believe it when he heard a familiar grunt of disapproval somewhere on Stiles' end of the line.

"Derek's alive," he exhaled. "Derek's alive- wait, Derek's at your house? Why is he at_ your_ house?"

"_How should I know? The guy does what he wants_," Stiles sounded annoyed. Scott, in spite of everything, laughed.

"Tell him me and Isaac will be right there," he said.

"_Oh, _great_, Lahey's coming over too. Sleepover at Stiles' house_!" Stiles said in mock-cheeriness. Isaac glared at the phone. "_Derek wants you to get Boyd here if you can as well- or at least let him know what's going on."_

"Will do," Scott said, and just as he was about to hang up, he caught a snippet of Stiles' sentence as he said,

"-_yeah, I told him all that! Jesus! Will you calm dow- okayokayokaywowthathurts you can let go of me now Derek-_"

Scott had a smile on his face when he slipped his phone into the pocket of his jeans and looked up at Isaac, an expectant look in his eyes.

"Sounds like we should hurry," he grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! Wow, people actually read that first chapter! I am amazed, and extremely grateful. Thank you so much to the people who followed, favourited, or reviewed ****.**

**Here comes Chapter 2.**

* * *

Isaac hung back, still against the wall of Scott's bedroom as the other boy scrambled through his closet for a jacket clean enough to wear.

"Are you sure I should come?" Isaac said. "It kinda didn't sound like I was invited."

"What? Of course you should," Scott said, sniffing his denim jacket tentatively and wrinkling his nose, flinging it to the side in disgust. "Ugh, I really need to wash some of these…" he turned back to Isaac. "You heard what Stiles said. Derek wants all of us over there."

"I'm not talking about Derek. I don't particularly think Stiles wants me there. The guy doesn't like me very much." Isaac didn't look like he cared about that. At least, he looked like he really didn't _want_ to look like he cared too much.

"Stiles doesn't dislike anyone, and he'll deal with it if he doesn't, anyway," Scott said dismissively. "I mean, you don't have to come if you don't want to, obviously…"

"Do _you _want me to come?" He tilted his head, awaiting Scott's response with a look in his eyes that Scott didn't understand.

"Me?" He pointed to himself, as though there was some other person in the room that Isaac could be talking about instead.  
"Yeah."

"Oh, uh…" Scott swallowed hard, feeling a little odd- sort of self-conscious, even. He snapped out of it. "Sure. I mean, if something comes up with the Alpha Pack, we should all be there, just in case."

"Is that a yes?" Isaac asked.

"Um, yeah?" It sounded more like a question than an answer, even to Scott. Isaac paused for a moment, still looking at him with that curious expression on his face that made Scott feel like he was looking _through_ him.

"I'll come, then," he said simply, and, quite suddenly, he stood up straight, moving back to the doorway. "I'll meet you at the front door in 5."

Isaac didn't look back to see Scott staring after him in bewilderment as he walked away.

* * *

It ended up being another twenty minutes before Isaac and Scott finally arrived at Stiles' house. Isaac was on the phone to Boyd, bringing him up to speed, while Scott hammered his fist on the door, listening as Stiles' feet hammered across the floor in a great hurry to swing the door open.

"About _time_!" he panted. "Come on, hurry up. He's in my room, and I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'd think he was throwing a werewolf-hissy-fit."

"Werewolves don't throw hissy fits, you_ idiot_," a familiar, and royally pissed-off, voice came from upstairs. Scott looked up, that same sensation of total relief coming over him.

"Derek?" he called, knowing the Alpha could hear him. He glanced at Isaac, who was putting his phone back in the pocket of his leather jacket, looking sideways at Scott.

"Boyd can't make it," he explained. He gestured up the stairs. "What are we waiting for?"

Scott barely waited a further moment, then. He bounded up the stairs, down the hall, and opened the door into Stiles room, face split into the biggest grin as he took in the sight of Derek's big frame hunched down in the chair at the corner of the bed. Before either of them could say anything, Scott had grasped Derek around the back of his shoulders in a firm, one-armed hug.

"Never thought I'd be so happy to see you, Derek," he chuckled, letting go at once at Derek's unresponsiveness. He took a step back, examining him. His shirt was colossally ripped up, and he had dried blood caking his torso and neck. His eyes were sunken, and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. But the gaping wounds Scott had imagined were nowhere to be seen- the broken limbs and twisted features from his nightmares non-existent. He let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding.

"Not bad to see you, too," Derek said stiffly. "Although, having spent the majority of today with only _that_ fool for company, it's not bad to see anyone." He jerked his head towards Stiles, who had followed Scott up the stairs and was standing behind the two of them now. Stiles made an exasperated noise and threw his hands up in the air.

"Yeah, you're welcome," he mumbled, but Derek wasn't listening to him now. He wasn't listening to Scott when he started trying to talk, either. He was staring behind both of them, back at the doorway. Scott frowned, turning his head to see Isaac standing there, hands in his pockets, everything about his body language screaming that he was extremely uncomfortable here.

"Isaac," Derek said, a hint of something like guilt in his voice. Scott realised that, aside from their run in with the Alpha Pack, this was the first time Isaac had seen Derek since he'd kicked him out that night. _That was why he was so reluctant to come_, he realised, feeling instantly bad for having talked him into it.

"You're alive," Isaac said coolly, in a tone that was strictly observant. "How'd you manage that? We were convinced that you were killed."

"I wanted to alert you as soon as I could," Derek said. "But I wasn't sure I was going to survive. I managed to drag myself away from where I fell before the Alphas came to take care of their own. I heard them coming, and I managed to get away." Scott got the feeling that there were words left unsaid between the two of them.

"You weren't wounded?" he said incredulously.

"I was." Derek avoided his gaze. "It healed within time."

"The wounds were inflicted by an Alpha," Scott persisted. "I had a cut and it wouldn't heal normally."

"Yeah, it was gross," Stiles added. "Like, black blood and everything."

"Black blood?" That got Derek's attention, and he looked away from Isaac.

"Yeah, sound familiar?" Stiles asked.

"Mine was the same," he said, brow furrowed. "It doesn't make sense." He looked Scott up and down. "Yours healed too, yes?"

Scott tugged the hem of his shirt. "I…Allison stitched it up for me. It healed after that."

"You got _stitches_?" Amusement passed over Derek's face briefly, and Scott was struck by it; struck because, only hours ago, he thought he'd never see amusement on Derek's face again. Or anger. Or calm. Or pain.

"Well, what did you do?"

"Yeah, Derek? Where were you, anyway? All this time you've been wounded-but-healing?" Isaac asked, tone clipped.

"Lahey's got a point," Stiles said, narrowing his eyes. "I mean, you weren't at my house the whole time… oh god_, please_ tell me you weren't at my house_ the whole time_."

"I was at _my_ house," he answered, with a demeaning glance at Stiles.

"Alone?" Isaac inquired.

"I…" to everyone's surprise, Derek's ears turned pink, and he struggled to formulate words. "There may be a situation."

"What?" Scott demanded.

"The…uh…teacher," he cleared his throat, "from the other night at the school- remember?" The three of them nodded. "I may have stumbled into her again when I was injured. She took me to my house in her car."

"Miss _Blake_?" Stiles said, at the same time as Scott groaned,

"You've _gotta _be kidding."

"So she _saw_ you heal?" Stiles asked. Derek glared at him- again.

"Not exactly. I left before she could tell that my injuries had disappeared."

"You just got up and left and she didn't ask you any questions? I mean, you must have looked awful- surely she wanted to take you to a doctor or something?" Scott said, puzzled.

"She was asleep." Derek refused to say anything else about it.

"Well, elephant in the room, then, guys: what the hell are we going to do about our English teacher knowing god-knows-how-much about all this werewolf business?" Stiles wondered aloud, making a point to glare at Derek so he would know that this was, unquestionably, all his fault.

"She isn't going to tell anyone, is she?" Isaac asked.

Derek shook his head. "I'm confident that she won't say anything. But that doesn't mean the Alphas won't go looking for her."

"That's great, considering there are _two freaking Alphas_ in her _English_ class," Stiles said.

"Fortunately, there are also two of you in her English class," Derek said, nodding to Scott and Isaac. "Your job at school is to make sure that the twins don't get suspicious of her involvement in any of this. We can't have another human getting dragged into this. It could get dangerous."

"Got it," Scott said. He hesitated. "That's not all you wanted us to come here for, is it?"

Derek almost smiled, shaking his head. He looked around the room. "Where's Boyd?"

"He's otherwise engaged," Scott said, eyes darting back to Isaac to confirm it. Isaac gave him a small nod. Derek huffed in irritation.

"I wanted to talk to all of you about it. But, I suppose, I'll just tell the two of you now. I wanted to make sure that you both know the stakes here."

"Go ahead," Isaac said. Scott noticed he hadn't moved any further into the room, but was still perched awkwardly near the entrance.

"The reason the Alpha Pack came here was to recruit me," Derek said, very clearly and distinctly, making sure that there was no way that anyone could misunderstand him. "Each member of the Alpha Pack got there by killing their own pack- absorbing the strength of each member until they became a new level of Alpha. That is what they want me to do. The night that I asked you to leave," his voice faltered ever so slightly when he looked at Isaac, "Deucalion came to my house. His position on the matter is this: either I kill my pack ,or he'll kill me. Of course, either way, he intends that you both end up dead. Now, I'd like that _not_ to happen." Like earlier that night, Isaac's expression was curiously blank. Scott, meanwhile, was listening intently, heart beating fast. He breathed in and out as slow and calm as he could, trying to get his pulse down so he didn't wolf out. It was an ongoing, tiresome process, even when the full moon was ages away.

"Huh, well, will you look at that- I'd like that not to happen too," Stiles said sarcastically, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen between the others since Derek started explaining. Scott shot him a look, and Stiles shut up.

"We can't fight them," Scott said slowly. "You killed one of them, Derek, but it almost killed you, too, and they're not going to let you off for it. We're not strong enough to take them- let alone Deucalion." The same sense of void helplessness that had been consuming him ever since he thought Derek was dead was back, and Scott had to look away from everyone else, for fear that they might see it in his face.

"I know that now," Derek nodded. "Which is why I wanted to talk to you all together now. From now on, I want you to stick together. Scott, Isaac, and Boyd too. I need you to take care of each other. And for the most part, you need to stay away from me. Deucalion will keep coming to me- trying to make me change my mind. In the off chance that he does, you need to be away from me. As long as you can fend me off, you'll be safe. As for the Alphas… keep a close eye on the twins. Contact me over the phone, but don't use the same phone to do it every time. We need to be smarter and more careful than they are if we're going to stand a chance at living through this- got it?"

"Our plan is to hide, then?" Isaac raised his eyebrows.

"Got a better idea?" Derek snapped.

"Nah," Isaac shrugged. "I'm used to sitting and hiding. Funny, I thought, being a werewolf now, that part might've changed." Scott tried to catch his eye, but Isaac wouldn't look at him. Stiles mouthed something about Isaac being 'moody', but nobody paid much attention.

"If that's all then… I guess," Scott swallowed. "What about your sister?"

"Cora can take care of herself," Derek said. "And I'm going to take care of her as well. Leave my sister to me."

"Somewhere else," Stiles put in hastily. "_Not_ here. Got it?" Derek turned on him, gritting his teeth like he would if he was in his wolf form. "Dude, my dad is the _Sheriff_," he pointed out. "Scott, you've got one wolf at your place already- what's one more?"

"I don't think that's the point Derek's trying to make," Scott said apologetically.

"We'll find somewhere new," Derek said, cutting off Stiles before he started complaining. He turned back to Scott and Isaac, his eyes resting on the former. "It was the only way to make sure you were safe," he said, with the voice of a man who was not apologising, but who was coming as close as he ever had to doing so.

"You could have told me," was all Isaac said, and Derek had nothing to say to that. Nothing at all. An uncomfortable silence fell across the room, until eventually Scott took a step towards Isaac, patting him across the back.

"I suppose we'd better be off," he said, looking from Isaac to Derek in puzzlement. Isaac hadn't told him what had gone on between the two of them the night he left- only that Derek had kicked him out in the middle of the storm. He was beginning to guess that the circumstances had been even worse than he'd originally thought. "Good to have you alive, man," he nodded at Derek, though that barely scratched the surface of the tidal wave of feelings he didn't understand yet that had hit him like a cement truck the moment he saw Derek alive.

"You're leaving already?" Stiles was in a panic. "Leaving me with _him_?"

"If you don't like it, leave," Derek suggested, and Stiles whirled on him, furious.

"Leave? Me? This. Is. My. House. You. Dick!" he shouted. Derek actually cracked a smile at that. Apparently giving Stiles grief was one of the few things that genuinely brought him joy. It was around this point that he realised his hand was still resting on Isaac's shoulder- tense as it was. He looked across at Isaac knowingly.

"Want to get out of here?" he murmured.

"If we're done," Isaac said. He sounded like he had earlier- guarded, like he didn't want to say too much, or too little. Scott led him out of Stiles room, not taking his hand away until they were well away from the rising voices of Derek and Stiles, walking down the stairs.

"Isaac," Scott began, but he stopped, thinking he wouldn't have much luck drawing an answer out of him, even if he tried. And yet:

"What is it, Scott?"

"Nothing," he hesitated. "It's just… you know you didn't have to come see Derek again. Not if you didn't want to."

"I know," Isaac said, slow and sure, and it looked like he might've been about to say something else, too- but then there was the sound of wheels rolling into the garage, and he and Scott both straighten their backs, taking the Sheriff's arrival as a cue to leave.

* * *

When they finally arrived back at the house, Scott's mum's car was out the front. He gestured to Isaac to be really quiet as they edged their way back inside, and sure enough, Melissa McGall was sprawled across the couch, none too gracefully, her eyes closed, mouth half-open. The TV was still on, set to some late night talk show featuring a very boistrous woman booming away at her guests- one of whom was a rapper and the other who was wearing a business suit and looking very important. Scott moved to switch it off, grabbing a blanket to throw over his mum, rolling his eyes when she jumped in her sleep at the sudden warmth. She didn't wake up. Scott turned around, not expecting Isaac to have waited for him, but there he was. Scott pressed a finger to his lips again, indicating that they go upstairs. Isaac nodded, waiting for Scott to lead the way before he followed, more silently than Scott ever could. Scott hated him for it.

"So," Isaac said dully, not bothering to whisper anymore once they'd reached the second floor landing. "Derek's alive." He ran his hands through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment. "Fancy that."

Scott looked closely at him. "What do you think of all this?" he wanted to know. No, really, he _did_ want to know. He wanted to know because, as he'd stood there in Stiles bedroom watching Isaac get more and more uncomfortable by the moment, he realised that he'd been stupid to feel like he was the only one who'd been effected by Derek's death. He realised that he still didn't know if Isaac, like he had been, was devastated, or felt responsible, or even if he felt relieved when Derek had died. He didn't know if Isaac had spent his nights sweating and screaming with nightmares of Derek's torn and broken body falling to the ground, seeing it all happen over and over in slow motion, and still never being able to move fast enough to stop it from happening. He didn't know because he hadn't bothered to ask, and that filled him with a kind of shame.

"I'm glad he's not dead," Isaac said finally, looking past Scott, his eyes very wide. "What about you?"

The question came as a bit of a surprise to Scott- but what surprised him most about it was that he realised he didn't quite know how to answer it. Because, yes, he was relieved- god, was he relieved, to find Derek alive. But everything that he'd felt before- the guilt, it was all still there. He still felt that sense of emptiness- the sense that there was no hope, or no chance. Like maybe this time, he hadn't gotten Derek killed, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't still happen. And then there was Isaac there, this guy who was virtually a stranger, who was living in his house, and who, for whatever damn reason, he _really_ didn't want to lie to.

"I'm glad he's not dead too," he stole Isaac's words.

"There's more than that, though, isn't there?" Isaac said quietly. "I saw your face today."

"I wasn't aware that my face looked like 'more than that'," Scott said.

"You're a bit of an open book, dude," Isaac shrugged. "Terrible liar and all."

"I am not," Scott cried indignantly. Isaac's mouth twitched into a half smile. "Honestly I… I don't know. Everything's happening so quickly, and it almost seems like…" he shook his head.

"Almost seems like what?" Isaac murmured.

"Like it doesn't matter that Derek didn't die the other night," he found himself spitting out, a bitter taste in his mouth. "Like he's still…cursed. He's a werewolf- we're all werewolves, and there are stronger werewolves here and they want to kill us, and we can't do anything about it. And they're going to come after us, and they're going to kill our friends, and maybe there will be days when we're lucky, and we'll find them alive, like we did today. But Derek's doomed. And Miss Blake is doomed, and Stiles is doomed, and Lydia, and Deaton, and Boyd-"

"And me?" Isaac said, peering over at Scott. They were standing on opposite ends of the hall now, but they had grown closer as Scott spoke, words leaving his mouth unedited, reckless, shocking even him.

"What?" he said, panting. His heart was speeding up. _Calm down, _some voice in his head that sounded kinda like Derek instructed him. _Breathe in…breathe out…_

"Am I doomed too?" Isaac asked, taking a step closer, and Scott focused on his eyes in the dark- the way they almost seemed to glow. "Is there no hope for me, Scott?" _Breathe in…breathe out…_

"I…" Scott fell short, head snapping up, and his breathing got harder and faster. It was like he'd woken up very suddenly, only to find himself somewhere completely unfamiliar, saying completely unfamiliar things- words stringing out of his mouth that he didn't know he even knew the meanings of, and it was all too sudden and too much.

"Isaac?" he mumbled. He felt a sharp pain in his mouth then, the feeling of fangs descending from his gums. In one swift motion, he was pinned back against the wall, a pair of arms holding him there by the shoulders, and there were blue eyes looking at him from close proximity, breath that smelled of mint and lemon mixing with his own gasps for air. Pain racked his frame and he shook, his whole body fighting the transformation that was threatening to come over him.

"Scott, calm down," a voice was saying, deliberately slow. "Focus on breathing, okay? In…out. In…out." Hands grabbed his own, forcing his own hand against his chest so he could feel each breath.

"Gah," he groaned, the fangs digging into his skin. In Isaac's eyes, he saw the reflection of his own- and they were red. He saw Isaac gasp in surprise. Then he heard his voice.

"Relax," he said in his ear. "You're alright. You're human, Scott. Think of Allison."

_Allison._ Scott tried to summon her- the smell of apple shampoo, the shining in her eyes, but she was too far away from him and he couldn't see her. It was like looking into a foggy mirror and trying to get a clear image reflected back at you. Isaac pressed his hand even closer to his chest, and he closed his eyes, shutting down all his senses apart from the breathing, ignoring the yellow of his own eyes, ignoring the pain of the fangs growing.

It took a while, but eventually, he felt the reassuring beat of a steady, human heart. When he opened his eyes to look at Isaac, he could no longer see red eyes reflected in Isaac's.

"You okay?" Isaac said, not letting go of Scott's shoulders.

"That…doesn't usually happen to me," Scott confessed by way of answering. He straightened up and Isaac dropped his hands to his sides. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"You, hurt _me_?" Isaac grinned in a cocky way- a way that said 'like you could hurt me if you tried'. Scott laughed.

"Hey, I'm a werewolf, and I was out of control," Scott said. "I so could've hurt you. Like, easily."

"Doubt it," Isaac said, still grinning. "You see, I'm a werewolf too. But unlike you," he raised a hand until the moonlight, and suddenly, claws shot up from his fingers, "I am in complete control." His eyes glowed yellow in the dark and he smirked as he shifted back immediately, claws back to regular fingernails. Scott raised his eyebrows.

"Impressive," he said. "I still don't think you could take me," he added, refusing to admit defeat.

"I could," Isaac affirmed. He smiled at Scott peculiarly. "But I won't."

Scott just shook his head, a laugh caught in his throat. He pat Isaac on the back. "Thanks, man," he said. "Hey, we should both be getting to bed. School tomorrow and all. Mission protect Miss Blake from her own dangerous knowledge of the world we live in."

"Well, when you put it like that," Isaac said dryly. He stepped backwards, half raising his hand. "Night, Scott."

"See you tomorrow," Scott said, stepping backwards towards his own room. This time, he waited until Isaac had walked into his own room and closed the door before he turned around and went back to his own bed.

Despite how tired he was, Scott couldn't sleep. He was too busy thinking about the great mystery of Isaac Lahey: the boy who had come to his room to find the truth, the boy who had asked him if he wanted him to come with him, who had fought with Derek, who had calmed him down.

The boy who had seen his eyes turn red.

And, for a reason that Scott searched for desperately but could not find, Isaac had not said a single thing about it.

* * *

**Well, that was the second chapter, guys! Please review and tell me what you thought! Also, I was wondering what you would think if I added in a side plot of Sterek, or to what degree Allison should be involved in Scott/Isaac, so if you could let me know your thoughts on that, it'd be great!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello lovely people taking the time to read this! Sorry it's taken me a while to update- I was emotionally recovering from the death of Boyd and just generally the Scisaac feels of Scott and Isaac sleeping at the foot of Melissa's bed to protect her :'-). Thank you especially to all those who reviewed- I love getting feedback, and it was nice to hear what you want in terms of Sterek and Allison's involvement in this story. This chapter does contain some Allison- mainly because she has been (and probably, to an extent, will always be) very important to Scott, but it all comes back to Scisaac :). Also, thank you to the people who have followed and/or favourited this story! Getting those notifications really makes my day! **

**Alright, enough of my babbling. Here's chapter 3!**

* * *

Scott's hand wavered slightly before he knocked on Isaac's door. He waited, not hearing movement from the other side. Maybe he should just wait a few more hours. It was kinda early, after all. But there was no way he was going back to bed. He couldn't sleep anyway. The whole night he'd been up, twisting up his bedsheets as he searched for an actually-comfortable position to lie in, the image of his own red eyes reflected in Isaac's haunting his thoughts. _You know what red means. _He wanted to forget about it. He wanted to pretend. But now Isaac had seen him, and that meant that Isaac might say something about it to someone else, and someone else might tell the Alpha pack, and then who knows what could happen from there. One thing he knew for sure was that nothing about this was normal: not amongst werewolves (because werewolves, he acknowledged bitterly, were a pretty 'normal' part of his life now). He'd been there, that night at the old Hale house; he'd seen Derek's eyes change after he killed Peter. Killed him- tore him apart. He remembered the blood in his smile when he'd said that_ he_ was the Alpha now. But Derek was alive. Derek was the Alpha.

So who was Scott?

_Maybe I should just be nobody again. Nobody at all. _It was like remembering a quote, or something a friend had said once- yet he knew that it was neither of those things. He knew because he remembered Stiles. He remembered watching his face when Scott had said it. He remembered seeing something there that he desperately wished he had not seen.

These were the words and the visions and the faces that Scott fought the whole night through, even into the early hours of the morning. He decided that he couldn't wait a minute more. He needed to talk to Isaac about what he'd seen. He needed to know that Isaac wouldn't tell anyone- set the record straight.

Which was why, when Isaac didn't answer the door after he knocked the second time, Scott got a little impatient.

"Hello?" he called, and, which a last sigh of exasperation, he twisted the doorknob.

"Looking for me?" Isaac's voice came from behind him, and Scott spun around, taken aback. Sure enough, there was Isaac- fresh out of the shower, and dripping wet, a towel wrapped around his waist. He smirked at Scott's bewildered expression. Without really meaning to, Scott found his eyes drifting over his bare torso- then, suddenly feeling extremely guilty for some reason, he dropped his gaze completely, and stammered a response.

"Dude, you should really yodel or something when you're approaching- you freaked me out."

"Ha," Isaac snorted, amused. "You want me to yodel?"

"Or make some kind of loud noise," he said, shrugging, and hoping his heart-rate or cheeks weren't betraying his embarrassment- even though Scott didn't really know what he had to feel embarrassed about. Isaac was on his lacrosse team, after all, and they both spent endless time in those change rooms- sometimes with shirts on, sometimes not. It shouldn't be a weird thing for him to encounter Isaac like this. Not that it felt weird, exactly. More… well, Scott couldn't really say.

"Would singing suffice?" Isaac arched his eyebrow.

"Uh- sure."

"Singing it is, then," Isaac said. "Although, I must say, shouldn't you of all people be able to go without the loud announcement?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Isaac just shrugged.

"You are a_ werewolf_. Generally we're meant to be pretty good at picking up on these things."

"I'm just not a very good werewolf, I guess," he said. He hesitated- very nearly deciding to leave it there, but he couldn't walk away without doing what he came here to do."Hey, I was hoping to talk to you about that, actually."

"About what?" Isaac asked, folding his arms across his chest and looking at Scott expectantly. Scott hesitated, glancing at Isaac again.

"Um, I can wait for you to get changed- if you want."

"I'm fine if you're fine," Isaac said, frowning slightly- probably, Scott thought, wondering what Scott's problem was.

"Oh- yeah, no, sure," he stumbled over his words. "Okay, well then. I just… I suppose…" Isaac waited, patient as ever. "I wanted to apologise," he finally blurted out.

"Apologise?" Isaac wasn't following.

"For yesterday," Scott elaborated. "I mean- I never really know what I'm doing, but I at least have control of the wolf. I don't usually just shift like that."

"Hey, it happens to all of us," Isaac reminded him. "Don't apologise, Scott. You really don't need to- not to me."

_Not to me. _Scott shivered, shaking his head.

"You shouldn't have to deal with me freaking out all the time."

"But you _don't_ freak out all the time," Isaac pointed out. "You had good reason to be a little on edge, Scott. I know you were really… I know that thinking Derek was dead was tough for you."

"Yeah, well, it was hard for you, too," Scott felt stupid. "Seeing him again. I don't know what he did to you, but-"

"Derek didn't do anything," Isaac almost snapped, and Scott looked up, taken aback by his sudden change of mood.

"Oh. I figured…"

"He kicked me out. So what?" Isaac said, a hard edge to his voice that hadn't been there before.

"You just didn't look all too comfortable last night, is all."

"_Maybe_ that was because your friend Stiles keeps giving me death-stares," Isaac said.

"I-" Scott was lost for words at that, feeling increasingly awkward. He didn't know what he'd expected. Maybe he thought Isaac would confront him about his eyes. Maybe he would tease Scott for being weak the night before. Maybe he would open up to him. But he wasn't expecting this.

"Look, you were upset. I get it. No apologies needed," Isaac said. "Is there anything else you wanted to talk about? Because I sort of need to put some clothes on."

Scott opened his mouth to say something, already feeling his face flaming red, but Isaac just walked past him, brushing his shoulder none too gently as he passed through the doorway and closed it behind him.

* * *

Scott knew it was a bad idea.

Not that Scott had all that much experience with dealing with exes- Allison Argent being his one and only, like,_ ever_- but even he knew that showing up at your ex-girlfriend's house without warning and for no reason in particular was hardly conventional. It's just, he didn't really know where else to go, and he couldn't stay home. Isaac hadn't left his room once, and it had been hours- but that hadn't stopped Scott from waiting outside, growing continuously more pissed off at himself for saying what he had said. He always knew he had foot-in-mouth disease. He was just used to hanging out with people like Stiles- people who wouldn't care, or would find it amusing. Isaac, he now knew, was not like Stiles. Things effected Isaac- things that _Scott_ said, and he should've been more tactful. All the while, he couldn't help but feel a bit like he'd just taken a slap to the face when Isaac had closed that door on him. Like one minute he was trusted by him and the next he was alienated.

It didn't help that, throughout everything, he still hadn't talked to Isaac about the inevitable topic of his eyes last night.

And, because he didn't want to think about what a mess he'd made about it, he thought about other things instead. Like Derek. Like the gasoline and the fire. Like the feeling he'd had the night- before Isaac had calmed him down. The feeling that Derek wasn't dead- but that that state wasn't permanent. It wasn't a guarantee, or a breath of relief. It was a ticking clock that was bound to break- and Scott just didn't know when.

And because he hated thinking about that, he had done something even more stupid.

He had come here.

And now he was going to pay the price for that, too.

"Scott?" Allison opened the door wider when she saw who it was, but her face was guarded; caught off-guard. "What are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

He flinched at that. Of course she would assume that. It was the only reason he ever spoke to her now- hell, if he was honest, it was the main reason that he ever showed up at her place, even when they were together. Something supernatural and evil happened, and he came to protect her- to warn her. Not to make social calls. Not to just talk to her because it made him happy to hear her voice. Not because he was lost at home and wanted to find somewhere familiar to him.

This house was familiar to him. _She _was familiar to him.

It was like all too much like that first, bizzarre day of this life- of being a werewolf. His senses were heightened, and everything was too loud, and too cold, and too hot, and too bright, and there was no way of shutting it out, and it was enough to drive him insane. Suddenly, without even realising that he'd stepped closer, he was kissing her- roughly, desperately, trying to feel something. His hands were in her hair, and they weren't being gentle, either. He wanted to feel like he had before- that sense of grounding, that sense of home, but no matter how much he kissed her, that feeling was a stranger to him now.

Suddenly, Allison's hands were hard against his chest, pushing him gently but firmly away from her, and he stumbled back, stunned and panting as he realised what he'd just done. Then he looked at her.

He just _looke_d at her, taking in her dark eyes, her hair. Her mouth not smiling anymore. He willed the image to calm his racing heart like it had before. He willed the mere sight of her to reassure him that everything was going to be okay. But it didn't.

Not this time.

"Scott, you don't look too good," she said softly, placing her hand on his arm. "Do you want to come in? Should I take you back to your place?"

He jumped away from her touch as though it burned him, shaking his head adamantly.

"No. No, no, that's alright."

"Scott-"

"Allison," he choked out the word. "Do you…" he struggled to find the words. "Do you ever feel like, whatever you do, it doesn't matter? Like you'll always say the wrong thing, or you won't have the right words, or you won't be fast enough, and someone is always going to get hurt, and it's going to be all your fault? Even though you don't mean to…even the nicest people- you just….and you try to talk to them but you're self ish, and you forget who they are and you don't understand and you never will, and there's just no _point_?"

He would never forget the look on her face then- because he had seen it before. Motel California. The sky was dark and the rain was cold, and Allison watched him and had not spoken. It was like she was looking at a stranger- not Scott, her ex-boyfriend, the guy who morphed into a half-wolf some nights. Not Scott, the guy who'd handed her a pencil her first day at school before she had even needed to ask for one. But Scott, the unstable, unfamiliar person, saying words that she couldn't understand. He hated it.

"Scott, let me take you home," she said, voice very serious and slow, like she was talking to a small child. He shook his head again.

"I said things to you, didn't I?" he said. "I…offended you. I mean, I've insulted your grandpa- your family. They are so important to you, no matter what they did. But there have been times when I've said something stupid. But you forgave me. Didn't you?"

"I don't know what this is about, Scott," she said. "Are you… are you worried that you've pissed someone off?"

"Yes," he said. "No. It's… a lot of things, y'know?"

"I don't," it came out as a whisper. "I'm sorry, Scott. I don't. But here, let me help you-" she reached forwards, meaning to hug him- and god, Scott could remember every beautiful day that that would've been enough. But he didn't wait to find out if that was still true. Before she could even touch him, he had turned on his heels. Then he started to run.

* * *

Isaac was getting pretty anxious already by the time the phone rang.

From there, it only got worse.

"_Scott's not home_?" It was Melissa, checking up on the two of them. The concern in her voice didn't go unnoticed by Isaac, and if she was worried, that meant-

"No. I don't know where he went… I think he's been gone for a while," he said.

"_Oh… it's just I told him to stay in the house today- the Sheriff has been encouraging everyone to stay indoors as much as possible, given, well…"_ she didn't finish her sentence. She didn't need to. Isaac was all too aware of the string of murders and disappearances that were haunting Beacon Hills.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon, Ms. McGall," Isaac didn't just say it to reassure her. He'd heard the door close when Scott left, and since then, he'd been cursing himself for being so sensitive. Scott probably thought he was an asshole. Or maybe Isaac had really offended him. Maybe he was with Derek, plotting against the Alphas without him. Maybe he thought Isaac would slow him down. Or maybe he was at Stiles' house, complaining about what a sour guy Isaac was- to his _best_ friend. That stung, mostly because Isaac knew it was true. Scott might be Isaac's best friend, but Stilenski would always be Scott's. Isaac was the odd one out- the guy Scott tolerated, maybe even got along with sometimes- but that was it. He swallowed past the lump that was forming in his throat. "Or he'll call you. Don't worry about it."

"_I suppose so,"_ Melissa sighed. "_Scott's pretty capable of defending himself, should anything happen… Anyway, you have a nice night in, Isaac. You'll stay inside, won't you? Stay safe?"_ She was using her maternal voice, and Isaac couldn't help but smile at the sound of it. It wasn't familiar to him- he doubted he would ever be quite used to it, even, but it was nice all the same.

"I will," he said.

"_Good," _she said briskly. "_Oh, and Isaac?"_

"Hmm?"

"_If you call me 'Ms. McGall' one more time, I will have no choice but to put on my Cranky Voice. I'm not your teacher, you know."_

Isaac smiled, even though he knew she couldn't see it. "I know."

"_See you later, kid_."

Then she hung up, and Isaac put the phone down on the kitchen counter.

Then he waited.

* * *

He waited sitting on the kitchen stool, and then he waited lying on the couch. He waited standing near the window, watching the sky turn from light and hazy to orange to blood red to dark blue, to just plain dark. He waited with the TV turned on to a channel that seemed to show nothing but ads, and he waited with the TV off and the radio on. And Scott didn't come back. And the knot of anxiety in his stomach turned into worry, and the worry started to turn into panic.

When the moon had ascended high in the sky, he pulled out his phone, deciding it was time to call Scott- not that he knew what he was going to say to him when he picked up. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

He punched the numbers into the phone. Scott's number was the only one he knew off by heart- mainly because it was the only one he ever really used. He put the phone to his ear, only to hear the familiar buzz of Scott's phone coming from behind him. He whipped around, only to see it lying on the counter- no Scott to be seen.

Since when did Scott leave his phone behind?

He thought back to the night before- how emotional Scott had been- how overwhelmed. A horrible idea came into Isaac's head- something that, once he'd thought of it, he couldn't unsee. _Scott wanted it to be over. He went to Deucalion and the Alphas himself. He fought them, by himself. A suicide mission. A final fight. _

Suddenly, Isaac was running to the door, not bothering to grab a jacket even though he knew it would be freezing outside.

He turned the handle, shoving it when it didn't open immediately in agitation. He heard a dull thud.

"Ouch!" someone said, followed by a groan. It was dark out, but the light from inside shone through to reveal Scott, clutching his head with both hands and cursing on the doorstep. "You hit me!"

* * *

"Scott?" Isaac said incredulously.

"Well, yeah," he said, taking one hand down from his head.

"Where have you been?" Isaac asked, anger and concern mixing up in his voice. At the same time, the worry that had been so intense not a moment before was draining away.

"Out," he said.

"Your mum said she told you to stay at home," he said, and then immediately he felt like an idiot- some overbearing twat telling Scott off for being out past his curfew.

"Well she doesn't need to know."

"Too late. She called before."

Scott winced. "Ah, well."

"So?" Isaac said. He didn't want to be acting like this. But he couldn't stop. "Where were you all day?"

"Um- can we go inside?" Scott skipped out on the question, sliding past Isaac through the door. Isaac thought it was like he was taking care not to brush Isaac's shoulder as he did.

Scott closed the door behind them, taking in a deep breath. It was then, in the proper lighting of the kitchen, that Isaac noticed how bad Scott looked.

His face was shockingly pale, his hair all messed up. He had sweat on his forehead, and his eyes looked small, like he hadn't had any sleep in days, or like he'd just cried his eyes dry.

"Scott?" he said, taking an unintentional step closer. Scott looked at him, and he got that look that Isaac knew all too well, because he had seen it before in his own reflection. The look you get when you're really, really trying not to cry. He put his hand on Scott's arm, and he didn't try to push it away. Scott just dropped his gaze and mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?" Isaac said, leaning closer so he could catch Scott's words.  
Scott cleared his throat, and then spoke a little louder. "I said 'I went to see Allison today'."

It was a curious thing, the feeling that came over Isaac then. Before, with his hand on Scott's arm, even though Scott had been terribly sad, he had felt… like he belonged there. Like this moment, although awful, was also an indescribably good one. Now, he felt like he was a traitor, standing here with Scott, trying to comfort him. Like it should be somebody else, not him.

"Oh." So while Isaac had been worried- no, frantic- Scott hadn't been with Deucalion at all. Or Derek. Or Stiles. He'd been with Allison. Of course he had. His beautiful ex-girlfriend. Well, probably not ex anymore. It hadn't been anything to do with Isaac. It hit him then, and pretty hard, too: Scott really didn't care. He didn't think that Isaac was an asshole for snapping at him that morning, and nor was he concerned- he wasn't even worrying about the Alpha situation. It had been her, the whole time. And that was another curious feeling. An unpleasant one. And Scott was not the only one who was trying not to cry.

"She doesn't…get it," Scott went on.

"She doesn't want to get back together?" Isaac sounded distant, even to himself.

"No. She doesn't," Scott said. "But it wasn't about that. She doesn't… I don't… it's over," he realised, with the expression of someone discovering something for the very first time. "This thing- her and me. My anchor. It doesn't work anymore. It's _gone_."

Isaac didn't know what to say to that. He just tightened his grip on Scott's arm.

"What would you do?" Scott half-whispered. "If your anchor was gone?"

"I suppose I'd have to find a new one," Isaac said, half-heartedly. He knew that your anchor couldn't be just anyone, or just anything. Boyd and Erica hadn't even established their anchors. "What do you mean, it doesn't work anymore? It worked the other night. When you started to Change. When your eyes turned red. I told you to think of Allison, and it worked. What changed between then and now?"

"Nothing," Scott said agitatedly. "I don't think… back then, I don't think it was Allison that brought me back. I tried to think about her, but I couldn't… I didn't _feel_ it like I used to."

"What was it, then? Whatever it is… maybe it can help you control it. At least for the time being," Isaac suggested, trying to keep his voice level.

"It wasn't anything, though," Scott frowned, thinking hard. "I- I mean, I think it was just you."

_You._

"Me?" Isaac hadn't been expecting to hear that- not in a million years.

"I mean, I just really didn't want to freak you out- make you deal with my crap, you know," Scott shrugged, and even though his words were dismissive, Isaac felt inexplicably warm. He had calmed Scott down- he had brought him back. In that one moment, he had helped Scott. Scott might even have needed him. Isaac wasn't used to people needing him. But that feeling- the feeling that he was useful, that he helped- it was the best feeling in the world.

He conveyed this mix of emotions to Scott, of course, with a flat, short "yeah". He felt like banging his head against a wall. _So smooth, Lahey, _he thought ruefully.

Scott chuckled without any humour. "Huh. But look at me now. Making you deal with my crap. Yet again. This is just embarrassing now- I have officially lost my manly, cool, collected mojo."

"In your defence, I don't think you ever had much of a manly, cool, collected mojo," Isaac said, hoping Scott would laugh. He got a small smile instead, but it was better than nothing. Then Scott's face changed, as though he'd just noticed something he'd missed before.

"Hey," he said, "you know what you said before- about the other night? You, uh… you said my eyes turned red."

There, he thought. That was what Scott had wanted to talk to him about. He knew there was something. This morning, he knew that there was something else that Scott had wanted to say, before Isaac had snapped at him.

"Because they did," he kept his tone light, letting Scott know that it was okay- that he wasn't going to demand answers of him. "Like, bright, blood red."

"I…" Scott was silent for a moment, struggling for the right words. "I didn't kill an Alpha," was what he ended up saying.

"I believe you," Isaac said simply, and Scott looked relieved.

"You do?"

"No, I think you're a cold blooded killer," Isaac was only a _little_ bit heavy on the sarcasm. "Yeah, I believe you."

Scott drew in a breath and nodded, giving Isaac a smile that was a little bigger than the first.

"Thanks, man." He sighed. "Honestly, I don't know why they're red now. I don't know what this means."

"Maybe Derek would know? Or Deaton. He seems to know a few things about Werewolves."

"Maybe," Scott agreed. He smiled at Isaac again, and, in response, Isaac felt his own lips forming a grin.

"Look, before you say anything else," Scott said, "I just wanted to apologise for this morning. I shouldn't have pushed you like that- I was insensitive, and it won't happen again. If it does, feel free to literally, like, punch me in the face or something. Or just tell me to knock it off, and I will."

"You want me to punch you in the face?" Isaac laughed, shaking his head.

"You're allowed to do that, you know," Scott said, and he wouldn't look away, making Isaac's stomach squirm. He didn't feel uncomfortable- that wasn't the right word. He felt like Scott saw more than he intended anyone to see. And that felt… scary. But also liberating.

"I don't want to," Isaac replied. "And you don't have to say you're sorry. I told you before, you don't have to apologise to me. I was being a dick."

"You. Being. A. Dick," Scott said slowly and deliberately, "that's one sentence I would never string together."

Isaac laughed, and Scott looked pleased with himself, his grin getting even wider.

"Okay, before we just continue on this chain of apologies to one another, I'm just gonna head upstairs- have a shower before mum gets home." Before Isaac could drop his hand from Scott's arm, Scott had his own hand over Isaac's, guiding it back to Isaac's own side.

"Should I order pizza again?" Isaac said, and he couldn't stop his voice from shaking a little.

"Yeah."

Scott turned around to head upstairs, and Isaac gravitated towards the phone, pausing in the middle of dialling the number.

"Hey, what should I order for you?" he called. Scott, who was halfway up the stairs, turned around, grinning at Isaac. It was funny, Isaac thought, how distraught and lost Scott had looked when he came through the door, and how positively happy he looked now- just with a smile on his face.

"Surprise me. I'm not afraid to try something new," he put on a deep voice. "I'm just badass like that."

Isaac rolled his eyes. "Sometimes, I swear, you and Stiles are the same person," he muttered.

"Nah," Scott said. "I'm better looking." He gave Isaac a wink before he jumped up the next two steps in one go, walking on until he was out of sight and Isaac could hear it footsteps in the hallway upstairs.

Isaac was left looking after him, mouth half-open, cheeks slightly red, wondering why on earth he had been on the verge of saying: _yeah, you are._

"_Hello, Pizza Delivery Service, how can I help you?" _some nasally, reluctant teenager on the other end of the phone picked up.

It took a moment for Isaac to articulate his answer.

* * *

**Hope you liked it! Please review/follow/favourite **** it's always very much appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi guys. So, this isn't my best chapter. I'm trying to keep this fairly up-to-speed with plot points in the series, but each episode is so eventful, it's hard to keep up. Anywho, I hope you find some enjoyment in it, at least ****. Thank you once more to everyone who has favourited, followed, or reviewed this. You are wonderful, kind people. Now, just a quick note to an old guest-account friend of mine! The rest of you, feel free to scroll on down and read the chapter ****.**

Monica: **wow, hi! Oh my god, that is such a great coincidence :P I literally just got into Teen Wolf as well. Oh, and don't get me started on Stiles he's just so ukjdgajkdfk and have you seen him in these latest episodes, like, Dylan O'Brien, can you stop being so amazingly talented for like 5 seconds please? All that emotional stuff is just ****terrible/****fabulous ****. So, are you a Scisaac shipper, or is there another pairing that floats your boat? Personally, I ship all the ships! It's awesome to hear from you again. Also, my email is **bonnie _ kiara live . com . au, **so if you want, shoot me an email so we can theorise about various fandoms.**

* * *

Scott gave Isaac a significant look and nodded forward when Miss Blake entered the classroom. Isaac gave a curt nod, his own eyes already fixed on the teacher. English was first up, and they were taking Derek's instructions seriously- much to Stiles' irritation.

"Seriously? You're actually going to be _concentrating_ in English?" he complained to Scott on their way into school. Isaac had been with them too- crammed into the back of Stiles' car, but Stiles mostly ignored him.

"Well, not _on_ English," Scott defended himself. "Look, this is serious, Stiles. Derek told us to look out for her- he wouldn't have asked if there wasn't a real possibility that someone could go after her."

"Who am I gonna talk to, then, while you're being all silent and observant?" Stiles spat out the words like they were insults. Scott grinned.

"Some silence might not be so bad for you either, you know," he said, and Stiles' jaw dropped dramatically.

"How dare you," he said, and then he rolled his eyes. "Dammit- fine. I'll do what I can to help too. But I've had enough of these stupid Alphas and the stupid Darach with their stupid sacrifices."

"Well articulated," Isaac spoke up, and Stiles just glanced at him, not sure whether to take it as a compliment or not. He ended up just sort of narrowing his eyes at him suspiciously.

Scott had just smiled at Isaac, and then he grabbed Stiles in a headlock, laughing at his friend's surprise- and then laughing louder when he started cursing instead, clinging on to the steering wheel to keep them on course.

Now, no one was making a sound, each seated at different desks- Stiles behind Scott, and Isaac diagonally in front of him, waiting for the teacher to bustle through to the front of the room. Allison was sitting to Scott's immediate left, and, even though he didn't allow himself to glance her way, he could feel her gaze on him from the minute he sat down.

"Morning, everyone," Miss Blake said, not looking up as she ruffled through papers on her desk. "I'm half-awake today, so you'll have to bear with me… have you all got your copies of the play with you?"

A handful of people raised their hands. The other ninety per cent just shrugged a little guiltily.

Miss Blake sighed. "Fantastic. Right, well, if you could all pair up with someone who _does_ have _The Crucible_-" she trailed off, and Scott and Isaac leaned forward in anticipation. She was staring at Aiden- staring at him with a look on her face that puzzled Scott, because she didn't look strict, or curious, or even suspicious. She knew something, that much was clear. And she was… afraid?

Scott heard movement behind him, and raised his hand just in time to catch the scrunched up bit of paper that Stiles had chucked over to him. He peeled it open and squinted, trying to decipher Stiles' handwriting.

_She knows?_

Scott shook his head, turning his head to whisper back.

"I don't know." He looked across at Isaac, who was already looking at him, eyes wide- just as confused as he was. He looked back to Aiden. If he could tell that Miss Blake knew something, he wasn't showing it. He kept glancing at Lydia, tangling his feet with hers under the desks. Scott felt like throwing up at the sight of it, but he forced himself to stay in his seat. Lydia could handle Aiden- at least for now.

"Hey," Stiles hissed. Apparently, he'd had the same, sick feeling at the sight of Aiden getting too close to Lydia. "Ever heard of personal space?"

Aiden smirked, raising a single eyebrow at Stiles. "Ever heard intimacy? Not that it'd surprise me if you hadn't."

"Aiden. Stilenski." Miss Blake's teacher-voice was back, and sharp as ever. "Mind if I interrupt your conversation?"

"By all means, Miss," Aiden said, earning cheap laughs from a few people around the room. Scott cracked a smile, too. That was, until he heard Isaac's whisper from behind him.

"_Where's Ethan?"_

Scott glanced around, noting for the first time the empty seat beside Aiden. It wasn't like the twins to split up. Suspicion made his insides twist.

Miss Blake put her hands on her hips. "Aiden, given that last week you were driving a motorcycle in the school halls, I really wouldn't be trying to talk back right now unless you want to be _expelled_." She was trying to scare him- threaten him into caring. But Aiden just shrugged- obviously not caring too much about the future of his academic career. "Now, as I was saying. The Crucible was written by Arthur Miller as an allegory for… who can tell me?" she surveyed the room, eyes landing on Scott. "Mr Mcgall?"

"I- uh-" Scott came up blank. The constant threat of death and the duty of protection didn't leave him much time for reading _The Crucible_- never mind researching its social context and intent.

"McCarthyism," a voice came quietly from behind him, and Scott glanced backwards to see Isaac giving him a small smile.

Miss Blake frowned. "I'm sorry, Mr McGall, did I hear an answer?"

"McCarthyism," Scott repeated blindly, and a nod of approval told him that Isaac's whisper had just saved his ass.

"So it was, Scott. So it was," she said, turning back to the rest of the class. "The fear of communism during the 1920s was widespread and _hysterical_, and it is here that we see the similarities between the society that was consumed by McCarthyism and the society that Miller depicts, in this absolutely formidable play-"

Scott listened to what she was saying for all of one minute before tuning out again, focusing instead on the steady beating of her heart. It was strange; she _knew _something. She definitely knew something- that much was certain. By the way she reacted to Aiden, he was pretty sure she knew he was a werewolf. Yet, she composed herself and went straight back into Teacher-Mode when he was being a smart ass. Was she just not afraid of him? But then, how could she not be? Hell,_ Scott_ was afraid of the twins. He wasn't stupid. Then again, he was part of this world. He knew the power of an Alpha. Miss Blake? Probably not so much.

Which meant, Scott thought, clenching his jaw, that Derek was right. Miss Blake was in danger.

* * *

"She may know about Aiden, but I don't think she knows about us," Isaac muttered as soon as they were out of the earshot of the rest of the class.

"How can you be sure?" Scott asked, even though he had a feeling Isaac was right on this one.

"It was the way she looked at you. Like you were just some ordinary student. Different to the way she looked at Aiden- even when she was trying to act like she didn't know he's a werewolf. She thinks you're just another clueless kid."

"Sounds like she has me all figured out," Scott grinned. Isaac rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair in agitation.

"This is ridiculous," he said suddenly. "Derek should have told us if he told her about the Twins- about _any_ of this. We're trying to keep her safe, but we don't even know the whole story."

"Derek's just a vague guy," Scott said. "What do you suggest we do?"

"_I_ don't know," Isaac said, looking at Scott again, imploring. It took Scott a moment to work out what he meant.

"Wait- you want _me_ to think of something? Like a… plan?"

"It's gotta be better than Derek's," Isaac shrugged. "'Keep her safe'. You're right, Derek is vague. Too vague. We need something more specific to go off."

"Like what?"

"Scott-" Isaac said, exasperated, and Scott threw his hands up.

"No. Not me. I've got nothing."

"Come on. What do your instincts tell you?"  
"My instincts?" Scott would have scoffed, were it not for the look on Isaac's face. It was a wide-eyed look- a hopeful one. Like the look a little kid gives an older one- a look that says 'I want to be more like you'. A look that says 'you can do anything you want'. 'You are invincible'. 'I believe in you'. "I mean… I guess we could keep closer tabs on Lydia and Danny. Make sure they're with us as much as possible- make sure we know where they are, when they're with the twins. We can ask Lydia to give us a heads up if she sees Aiden going off on his own somewhere, and we can tell Danny enough so that he knows he can't trust Ethan- not completely. The twins are at their strongest when they're together, so we can assume that when they're apart, it means that there's some plan that's going down, and they need to split up in order to do it. If we can know where they are, and when they're by themselves, then we'll know whether or not they're an immediate threat to Miss Blake…" he trailed off, almost completely certain that what he'd just said had been the most illogical, sloppy plan he'd ever come up with. Isaac just kept looking at him, with that same, strange look that he found uncomfortable- because he felt like he didn't deserve it. His lips curled into a smile.  
"Yeah," he said, sarcasm colouring his tone. "You've got absolutely_ nothing_."

Scott grinned sheepishly, about to say something when a face obscured his vision.

A face he really didn't want to see again right now.

"Allison."

* * *

"Scott, don't look at me like that," she said, reaching towards him like she had the other night. Once more, Scott stepped away from her touch, and her hand fell back, left wanting.

"Should I, um…" Isaac gestured behind him, starting to step backwards slowly.

"No worries, man- I actually have to find Stiles right now, so-"

"Scott-" Allison tried, but he was walking away from her, moving through the sea of students so fast she knew it would be useless to go after him. Isaac looked after him, curiosity getting the better of him. He knew that Scott had been to Allison's the night before. What he didn't know was what had happened.

"Isaac." He started, turning back to see that Allison was now looking at him, biting her lip. Worry was shading her features.

"Um," he hesitated, suddenly feeling awkward. He wasn't quite sure how these things worked, but he got the impression that talking to your friend's ex-girlfriend wasn't a great idea- especially if that friend had just practically fled a conversation with her.

"Look, I get it- you don't know me. I don't know you. But I do know that you're a good friend to Scott," she said, stepping towards him, pleading. "I just need to know he's okay."

"There's a pack of Alphas in town," Isaac said dryly, "they're out to get Derek. A few days ago Scott thought Derek was dead. I'm going to need some clarification on what you think 'okay' means, under the circumstances."

Allison glared at him. "Look, I'm just trying to help. You don't know what he was like…" she leaned closer, confidentiality in her voice. "Last night, he showed up at my house. He wasn't himself."

"What do you mean, 'wasn't himself'?"

"I mean, he was saying scary stuff. He was acting all… just not Scott."

"Not the Scott you know," he said, no malice in his voice.

"Not like the Scott anyone knows," she said fiercely. "He was talking like he wanted to give up. On _everything_. Tell me that's the Scott _you_ know."

Isaac felt a dull ache in his chest, and he remembered Scott's face when he said much the same thing to him- when the Wolf had consumed him. But Isaac had calmed him down. And Scott had apologised, even though he did not have to. And he kept going.

"He's not giving up," Isaac said. "I think he just… he's been through a lot."

"He said something about forgiveness. Like he wants forgiveness from someone. He asked me how I forgave him for things that he's said…" she kept going on, as though she couldn't stop.

"Forgiveness?" _Sorry. _He thought of the amount of times that word had left Scott's mouth last night when he came home. To Isaac. He wanted Isaac to forgive him. Had it been him? Had that been why? A sick mix of horror and happiness fuelled his guilt.

"Scott doesn't need forgiveness from anyone." He cleared his throat.

"He looked really bad, Isaac," Allison said, as serious as he had ever heard her. "But he won't talk to me about- whatever it is that's going on with him. And I know he's not talking to Stiles. You see him all the time now. Just… take care of him?"

Take care of him.

As if he had to be asked.

"I will," he said. Allison almost smiled, then, and he felt a twinge of something he couldn't define in the pit of his stomach at the realisation that she loved Scott- cared about him enough that she would be happy that he was safe, no matter who it was that protected him. Like he wanted to relate. Like he wanted _her_ to stop caring so much. Like he wanted to have the reasons that she had to be as worried as she was.

"Oh, and one more thing?"

He raised his eyebrows, the sudden surge of confusion making him all the more eager to exit the conversation.

"Tell Scott I love him, will you?" She adjusted her bag on her shoulder, and walked past him, not waiting to hear his non-existent reply.

He just stood there, the silence in the midst of the noise of the school hall deafening him.

Then he did what he seemed to be doing a lot of these days.

He went to find Scott.

* * *

"Ethan was with Danny in English today," Scott told Isaac once he'd found him in the cafeteria. He tried not to look at him too much- tried not to give himself away.

Scott hadn't meant to eavesdrop. Really, he didn't. But when he'd walked away from Allison in the corridor, and Isaac had stayed behind, he couldn't help it. Somehow, he found himself peering around the corner, listening to every word that was spoken.

It had sort of killed him. It had sort of confused the hell out of him.

The concern, he'd expected it from Allison. It was just in her nature- what he had loved about her. She was strong, and a damn good hunter, but everything she did, she did because she was concerned. Because she wanted to protect someone.

What he hadn't expected was Isaac.

Or, more specifically, how much Isaac knew. He knew that 'okay' was a pretty relative term right now. He knew Scott wasn't giving up. How could he know that- how could he possibly think that- after Scott had cowered in front of him like a wimp out of his depth, not once, but twice?

It was at that point that Stiles had found him, chattering loudly about his new theories regarding the Darach. Scott tried to listen- really, he did- but somehow he was pulled back to the conversation in the hall.

"_Take care of him?"_

"_I will." _

Like Scott needed to be taken care of. Like Isaac would be willing to, if he did.

"…_tell Scott I love him, will you?"_

Then footsteps.

"Scott? Earth to Scott? Hellooo?" Stiles waved a hand in front of Scott's face, an amused yet annoyed look on his face. "Dude, have you even been listening to me? This is actual, important stuff here. Sacrifices. Druid gone bad."

"I know, I know!" he said guiltily, trying not to be too annoyed that he'd had to stop listening in. Apparently, the conversation hadn't lasted too long after that, though. Soon enough, Isaac came round the corner, looking around the place like a kid lost in a new town. Stiles caught sight of him and waved him over.

"Maybe _he'll_ listen to my theories," he said to Scott, pretending to be uber annoyed. Scott actually poked his tongue out at him. Then Isaac sat down, and Scott didn't know where to look, or what to say. He waited for Isaac to do as Allison said- to tell him that she loved him. But Isaac didn't say anything of the sort.

So he decided that sharing the information he'd actually acquired about the twins would be a good ice breaker.

"With Danny like bad-danger-danger, or with Danny like," Stiles wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Isaac laughed, and Scott smiled- because of Stiles always saying the right things, and because of Isaac laughing when there was nothing to laugh at.

"I'm gathering it was the latter, judging by the state of his hair," Scott said. "I caught them coming out of some empty classroom before."

Stiles wrinkled his nose. "I don't like it. Aiden's all over Lydia, Ethan's all over Danny- they're here to get Derek to kill you guys, aren't they? Why are they bothering with Lydia and Danny at all? Not," he added hastily, "that I want them to focus on killing you guys or anything. I just don't get it."

Isaac frowned. "You've got a point."

"I think," Scott said heavily, "It's just a method of…insurance. So when the time comes that Deucalion wants us to cooperate, they'll use Danny and Lydia against us. Threaten them."

"Charming, these Alphas," Stiles said. "Is that like a requirement for them? Like, "ooh, you're a werewolf who has red eyes? You_ must_ be a douche. It's werewolf regulation"." He put on a growly voice.

Isaac caught Scott's eye, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards into a smirk. "Oh, I don't think all red eyed wolves are douches."

"Hey, do disrespect man, I know Derek's your Alpha, but even you have to admit- the guy's not exactly a bundle of hugs and kisses," Stiles said pointedly. Isaac raised an eyebrow at Scott, smirk ever-present.

"Maybe you just don't know him like I do," he replied sarcastically, taking his eyes off Scott at last.

"I got the impression that you weren't too fond of him- y'know, given that he kicked you out or something. What actually happened with that? Were you disturbing his dark and broody alone time?"

Scott hitched his breath, shaking his head subtly as he could at Stiles- but his friend caught on a little too late.

"That's Derek for you," Isaac said shortly. "So." He put both his hands down in the centre of the table. "Nothing further on Deucalion. Do we have anything on the Darach?"

"YES," Stiles said loudly. "We do, actually. We know they went after virgins at first, right? But they changed it up. It's all about sets of three. Three virgins, three guardians- I'm thinking three philosophers are next, judging by the last victim. Dad had him in at the station this morning."

"Who do you think is doing it?"

Stiles leaned towards the two of them.

"I'm thinking it's someone who associates with the Alphas. Someone like-"

"Dude, no," Scott said.

"Hey, I know you like the guy, but we can't trust anyone completely. For all we know, it could be Deaton," Stiles protested.

"The vet?" Isaac looked surprised.

"I know, right?" Scott said, turning back to Stiles. "Just _no_. Deaton heals puppies for a living. No way would he ritually sacrifice virgins."

"Then who-"

A scream. Scott felt it before he heard it- something so terrible, and so foreign, and so familiar that it pierced through him, ringing on and on long after it should have died out- and much louder than anything he'd ever heard in his life.

He wrapped his hands over his ears, wincing at the sound, looking across the table to see Isaac's fists clenched against his own ears. Stiles was looking from Isaac to Scott and back again- clearly, he hadn't heard anything.

"Guys? Hey. Hey what's wrong- talk to me!" He removed Scott's hands from his ears.

"I… I think it was Lydia," he gasped, looking across at Isaac, who was reeling in his chair.

"Lydia? What was Lydia?" Stiles was still in the dark.

"She's in trouble," Isaac said, looking at Scott.

"She's in trouble?" Stiles repeated, worry etching lines into his forehead.

"Do you know where it came from?" Isaac asked Scott, and he shook his head, hesitating.

"I…I think it came from upstairs somewhere," he said. He was on his feet. "We've got to find her. Now."

Isaac- and Stiles, for that matter, didn't have to be told twice.

* * *

Scott's legs burned as he bounded up the last few stairs, roaring down the corridors, ears sharp, listening for any voices, scraping chairs, any sign that she could be here. Isaac and Stiles were hot on his heels- Isaac with his wolf face on. The place was empty- or at least, it was to the untrained eye. But Scott knew what he'd heard, and he was going to find his friend, and kill whoever or whatever it was that was threatening her.

Aiden.

It was the first thought that came to his mind. Anger boiled and froze in his stomach, and he felt his fangs emerging in his mouth. He hammered on doors, bursting open, running along further and further- and then he heard something. The soft voice of a woman.

The woman he was charged to protect.

"_A necessary evil," _she was saying. "_One. Last. Philosopher."_

Miss Blake. His English teacher. His teacher. And she knew about the sacrifices. She knew about the philosophers. She knew because _she was the one who was doing this. _

He heard Lydia whimper before she could scream.

His blood ran cold, and he shouted for Isaac and Stiles to follow him. Then he started to sprint, hurling his whole body weight against the flimsy doorframe, smashing through the wood, extending his claws and lashing out at a figure standing over Lydia in a chair.

"Miss Blake," he said in her ears, moving to drag his claws sharp across her stomach, but she moved- faster than any human should be able to move- escaping his grasp and grinning at him. It wasn't a pleasant sort of grin- not the kind of grin he was used to from his babbling English teacher.

"About time you did your homework, Scott," she said. "Now, I know we're in school, but I'd much rather you call me by my real name." She cocked her head to one side, the brilliant, terrible smile never fading. "Darach."

Scott's mind was racing, too fast for him to fathom- to fast for him to keep up. He took a step towards her, not knowing yet how he planned on killing her- when his boot landed in something sticky and slippery. His eyes fell to the floor. That was when he saw the blood.

And following the trail of blood with his eyes to the corner of the room was how he found the body.

Boyd's.

"NO." His cry was that of a wolf's, not a human's, and his arms were shaking, and he swung forwards, only to have his arm fly through thin air, missing the Darach somehow.

"Your beta was faster than you were," she said conversationally. "Wanted to save this one." She gestured roughly at Lydia, and Scott allowed himself to glance back at her. She looked from him to Boyd to Miss Blake with the malice in her eyes, tears streaming down her face. "Heard her scream."

"He's not my beta." Scott grit his teeth. "His name is Boyd."

"Was," Jennifer corrected him, stepping into the pool of his blood with her high heels. "Scott. His name _was _Boyd."

There was a loud squeak as Isaac and Stiles entered the room, taking it all in. Stiles saw Lydia, falling beside her chair, and he began to work at the ropes that bound her there in a frenzy. Isaac looked at Boyd. Then at Scott. Then he fell to his knees on the ground.

"Touching," the Darach said, surveying them all like a scientist might survey unexpected results of an experiment. "Really. This pack-mentality that you have going on. Admirable, even."

"You knew about us," Scott said.

"I'm a brilliant actress, aren't I?" she grinned. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I don't mean to be rude- but I don't want you and your Beta. Or your human side-kick." She looked at Lydia, smile growing. "I want the Screamer."

* * *

**So I changed it up ever so slightly from the canon event. I know Sheriff Stilenski was there (and stabbed, and stolen) canonically, but *Nick Fury voice* given that that was a stupid ass decision, I have elected to ignore it :P. Feel free to review and tell me what you think! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi everyone! I'm guessing you're all as ready as I am for the finale on Monday (aka NOT READY AT ALL aaah) ****. Here's the next chapter! I hope you like it, and once more, thank you so much to all the people leaving lovely reviews, following, and favouriting.**

***also, I realise I've been spelling McCall wrong *slams face into keyboard* so sorry! Thank you to CMT1992 for reminding me!**

* * *

Monica: **omg yes that last episode was just amazing and the Stiles/Lydia scene was so cute ****. I ship those ships as well- I do like the way they're going about all the relationships on the show. I haven't heard of Caiden though- is that Cora/Aiden? Haha, ooh, Elementary is another good one! **** weird that my email didn't work- but oh well. Hope you're having a good day!**

Guest: **wow, thank you so much! Always happy to be spreading the Scisaac feels **** that's actually one of the biggest compliments I think you can get! Have a nice day!**

* * *

"_I'm a brilliant actress, aren't I?" she grinned. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I don't mean to be rude- but I don't want you and your Beta. Or your human side-kick." She looked at Lydia, smile growing. "I want the Screamer." _

"Well you can't have her." It was Stiles who spoke, moving to stand between Jennifer and Lydia, who was now semi-untied in her chair, her whole body shaking. He stood like he was actually providing a shield- like Jennifer couldn't reach her if he was there. Scott had to admire his friend for that; sheer guts in a situation like this. But it wasn't going to help them get Lydia out today. It wasn't going to bring Boyd back.

"I wasn't asking for permission." The Darach turned her attention from Scott to Stiles, her smile growing wider when he made no attempt to move. She experimented, taking a step closer. Stiles gulped, catching Scott's eye over her shoulder, and Scott glanced over at Isaac, wondering if they could coordinate an attack while her back was turned.

"Don't even think about it, Scott," her voice was like a strike of lightning through dark- a shock, and not a pleasant one at that. "Your beta will be dead before he can so much as lift a finger against me, and I can take you any day."

"I don't have a beta," Scott said evenly, for the second time.

"Silly. Why do you think your eyes turn red now?" She sighed. "I thought the Alpha was supposed to be intelligent." She wasn't looking at him when she spoke, but somehow it was like he could feel her eyes on him anyway, examining him with a cruel fascination as he spluttered and wondered how the hell she could possibly know that. Wondering if there was anything she didn't know. Wondering what she meant when she called Isaac his 'beta'- and he an Alpha.

He didn't have time to wonder much, though.

He jerked his head, signalling at once, and in a heated moment of adrenaline he was off, using one foot to propel the other forward in a kick that landed in Jennifer's side. She cried out in surprise, even as Isaac gripped her wrist and bit into it, fangs sinking into her flesh. Scott grabbed her neck with one hand-

And his fist closed around nothing. A glance to the side told him that Isaac was reeling on the ground next to him, black blood dripping from his teeth, a shocked look on his face. Stiles, still stood in front of Lydia, was staring in terror behind them. With a sinking heart, Scott turned to see Jennifer, unharmed, glaring at him from behind.

"Now _that_ was rude," she said, and she held both her hands out, palms up, starting to mutter and murmur something in a foreign language. Scott felt the air around them tighten, as though the magic she was conjuring was sucking all the oxygen from the room, leaving them breathless…

"_Hey_." A loud voice cut through the room, breaking the spell like a splash breaking still water. Scott spun around, mouth agape in shock. Standing at the door, shirtless, and looking right at Miss Blake, were Aiden and Ethan. And, what was even more shocking, she was afraid of them.

* * *

"We know what you are," Aiden hissed, making his way into the room. "_Darach_." Ethan walked beside him, wavering as he took in Boyd, dead on the floor, and then Scott, Isaac, Stiles and Lydia, scattered around the body.

A few seconds ago, Jennifer had been all-confident, the grin never leaving her face. Now, with the twins here, any trace of a smile was gone, and for every step Aiden took forward, she took two back until her back was against the wall.

Meanwhile, Scott and Stiles helped Lydia out of the chair, each supporting her with one arm. Isaac just stared at Boyd, an empty look on his face.

"Don't come any closer," she said, in what was halfway between a demand and a plea. "You can't kill me."

Aiden cocked his head to the side. "Deucalion wants you alive, that much is true. But he didn't say anything about not _hurting_ you." He spared a single look at Lydia- not much, but enough for everyone in the room to see an anger that one wouldn't expect from an Evil Alpha Twin.

"What, you…_ care_ about the girl?" Jennifer said, trying to maintain her cocky demeanor. "Sad I hurt her? Do you even know what she is? A _Banshee_." She spat the word out like it was poison to her lips.

Scott glanced at Lydia- but she looked just as confused and afraid as he felt.

Aiden growled, an animalistic sound that came from deep in his gut.

"You're done talking to me." In one swift motion, he pressed a hand against his brother's shoulder, and Ethan did the same to him. Slowly, they began to meld together, growing and shifting in a transformation that was impossible to look away from.

The Darach, for all her power, shrunk back as she watched, panicking. Scared.

When the monster wolf was in all its glory, growling and hissing, tearing down desks on its way to get to her, she let out a cry in another language- a haunting sound that would become a recurring nightmare for Scott in the days to come. The room went dark.

When the lights came back, she was gone, as was Boyd's body.

* * *

Nobody said anything for a long time after that. For a while, the Alpha's monster wolf tore through the room, head flicking in each and every direction, searching for the Darach, and howling when it found nothing before returning Aiden and Ethan to their respective forms. Lydia whimpered and leaned her head on Stiles' shoulder, eyes wide, staring at something that nobody else could see. Isaac put his hand where Boyd used to be, and left it there. Scott looked at everyone, and wondered when everything had gone wrong.

Then Lydia spoke.

"Can we get out of here now? _Please_."

"Indeed." A loud, unimpressed voice came from the doorway, and Coach Finstock stepped in, hands on his hips. "Can you please return to the cafeteria, where all students are supposed to be right now? And, while you're at it, could somebody explain to me what the six of you are doing here that's been making all that noise?"

"I- uh, we…" Stiles spluttered, looking to Scott for help, but his friend was standing open-mouthed, barely registering the teacher at the door.

"We were practicing," Ethan ended up saying. "Lacrosse."

"You. Were. Practicing. Lacrosse." Finstock surveyed each and every one of them, eyebrows raised. "Lydia, too?"

"She's been on the sidelines since first grade, coach. She just wants her chance," Stiles said, when Lydia was unable to say anything. She glared at him.

If it had been anyone else who had found them, this would've probably resulted in a detention. In fact, there was no probably about it. It just so happened that Coach Finstock was the one guy in school who honestly didn't care about six teenagers demolishing a classroom at lunch.

"Look, I don't want to know what you're really up to. Just know that if you get caught, they'll probably threaten to take you off the team. If that happens," he leaned towards Scott, addressing him, in particular, "I will reign down on you with the wrath of Satan. Is that understood, McCall?" His priorities were definitely in check.

"Yes, Coach."

With a last glare at the group, he pointed to the door.

"Everybody out. Now."

Stiles, with Lydia leaning on him for support, was the first to file out.

* * *

"But are you really, truly sure-"

"I told you, I'm fine," Lydia said, cutting Stiles off as he asked, for the umpteenth time, if she was okay.

"You've been through a lot, Lydia. Nobody's expecting you to be fine," Scott said gently. She sighed, but gave him an appreciative smile before she replied.

"Well, I'm a lot tougher than I look. Honestly, I'm okay. Except, obviously, I am on the verge of writing an angry letter to the school board requesting that they be more selective with their staff. I mean, that oaf of a coach is one thing, but hiring freaky human-sacrificing non-human creatures to teach English? Not cool."

"I couldn't agree more," Scott said, meeting Isaac's eyes. Isaac hadn't said a word since they'd left that room, but he didn't have to. Scott knew what he was thinking- because he was thinking it to.

_Boyd_.

Scott hadn't known him all too well. But he had known him enough. Enough that it felt like a terrible wrong that he would never get to know him. That he would never see him round in the halls at school; never work with him to defend Derek, never borrow an eraser in Algebra.

"I say we all ditch school," Stiles said. "No way am I sticking around after all that. I don't know what Aiden and Ethan were doing there, but I don't even want to find out right now."

"Retail therapy?" Lydia said sarcastically.

"Re-grouping," Stiles asserted. "Come on, guys. Who here can honestly say that they'd be able to function in class right now?"

"Well, thanks to all the crazy earlier this year, my attendance record is looking scrappy anyway," Lydia said. "What's one more unexplained absence? We can all go back to my house. No offence, but I'm not hanging out at the Deputy's place when I'm supposed to be at school," she shot Stiles a look.

"You in, Scott?"

Scott glanced at Isaac. "I'm not sure…"

"I think it's a good idea," Isaac said. "But…"

"But? Why is there always a 'but'?" Stiles complained to no one in particular.

"But we should really find Aiden and Ethan. They definitely know more about this than we do," Scott finished, and Isaac nodded.

"That woman- the Darach- she killed Boyd. If the twins know something about her, we need to make sure we know, too," he said, voice cracking just a little. Scott pretended not to notice, for Isaac's benefit.

"It shouldn't take too long," he said to Stiles. "We'll be right behind you. You get Lydia out of here, make sure she's alright."

"Excuse me? I'm right here, I can hear you, and I'm telling you, I am _fine_," Lydia said. Stiles and Scott shared a look, and she folded her arms across her chest, raising her eyebrows.

"You're waiting for me to go into shock," she realised, half-angry, half-pleased.

* * *

"Yes we are," Stiles said blatantly, linking his arm through hers. "Come on- we'll take my car." He nodded to Scott and Isaac, half-marching Lydia towards the car park. Scott waited until he could no longer see them until he turned back to Isaac.

"Any idea where we can find those twins, then?"

"I'm not sure about Aiden," Isaac said. "But I think I might know where Ethan is."

Scott leaned in expectantly.

"Well, you know where he was this morning, right?" Isaac elaborated. "Or rather, who he was with."

"Danny," Scott said. "Of course." He grinned appreciatively. "Guess we should start checking empty classrooms."

"Yeah," Isaac gave a small grin in response.

The two started walking through the corridors, surveying the windows and doors carefully, each listening out for familiar voices.

"You don't think we should- split up, do you?" Isaac asked once they'd covered the floor without success.

"I don't think so. If we find him and he's mad- well, we might need to help each other out to hold our ground if they wolf out on us," Scott said. Isaac nodded, but he was frowning. "Unless you want to split up?" Scott added.

"No," he shook his head adamantly. "It's not that. I just…" without warning, he slammed his fist hard into a passing locker. Scott heard the collision of flesh and metal- the sickening thud and crack of Isaac's bones breaking, and he winced. "It's taking too long," Isaac said, too frustrated to register the pain. He would heal anyway.

Even so, Scott took his wrist gently in his hand, guiding him away from the locker and examining the broken knuckles. "Hey, easy," he said soothingly. "This looks nasty."

Isaac stared at Scott's hand where it held his own- his fingers likely tracing the rapidly swelling flesh- the shock of it making him forget his anger for a moment.

"What are you doing?" he said in a low voice, and Scott looked up, startled.

"I- I'm seeing if your hand is okay."

"It'll heal," Isaac said, and he was looking straight at Scott now. "It doesn't matter."

"You're still hurt," Scott said, suddenly feeling guilty, but not knowing why or what for. Isaac dropped his gaze back to Scott's fingers circling his wrist, and even though Scott had meant nothing of it, he understood now that holding Isaac's wrist was something far more invasive and personal than anything he had intended. That bizarre feeling of being caught out came over him again, and he loosened his grip at once. Before he could completely let go, though, he felt something warm holding his hand in place, stopping him. Now it was his turn to stare.

Isaac's other hand was there, holding Scott's to his own- gently but firmly telling him that he did not want him to let go. He became acutely aware of a rising heartbeat, but he didn't quite know if it was his own, or Isaac's. What he did know? Isaac was holding his breath just as tightly and clumsily as he was holding Scott's hand.

"It doesn't matter," Isaac said again, throat dry. "But you still…" it was that look again. The look that a baby gave their parent- that a teenager gives their idol, that a puppy gives its carer. The look that made Scott feel glad and scared and reassured and uncertain.

"Yeah," he said, because he didn't know what else to say. This was weird, he thought. Somewhere in the back of his mind. But it was the_ very_ back of his mind. At the front of it was Boyd's body, and Ethan's empty chair in class, and Derek still alive, and Lydia crying quiet tears in the chair, and his own red eyes, and Jennifer's threats, a circle of gasoline, Stiles crying, and Isaac's broken hand.

Isaac took a shuffled step closer to him, mouth half-open, as though he were about to ask something.

Laughter interrupted him.

It was loud, and it was coming from the room directly above them- a laugh that you didn't need to be listening for in order to hear. Most importantly, it belonged to Danny.

"Up there," was what Isaac ended up saying, and Scott, too strangely dazed to form a response, just nodded. Isaac's hands fell away from his, and the sudden cold caused goose-bumps to rise on his skin- but if he noticed it, he blocked it from his mind. He was already racing up the stairs.

* * *

Being friends with Stiles meant that Scott had experienced a lot of awkward moments in his life. But crashing into a biology lab classroom to interrupt a shirtless Ethan and Danny's escapades against the sink was up there in the top 10 list.

"Shut the door," Ethan was the first to break the silence that fell when they crashed through the door, and Isaac- who, the poor thing, looked even more out of place than Scott did- hurried to do just that, determinedly looking at the floor while Ethan and Danny released each other. Danny pulled on his shirt at once, abashed and thoroughly annoyed.

"What's this about?" he said, eyes going from Scott to Isaac.

"We- uh- we needed to talk to Ethan," Scott stammered.

"It couldn't have waited?" Danny retaliated.

"Not really."

"Actually," Ethan said, not bothering to put his shirt on as he walked up to Scott. "I don't think there's anything I have to discuss with either of you."

"I beg to differ," it was Isaac. He paced up until he stood directly at Scott's side, and he tilted his head as he looked at Ethan.

Ethan just smirked at Isaac before turning his attention back to Scott. "He's cute. But I'm afraid your little side-kick isn't all too intimidating. I've still got nothing to say to you. Now, if you'll excuse me- this room is taken. If you two want to mess around ,go get your own room."

Even Danny had nothing to say to that. He just glanced from Scott to Isaac, eyebrows raised.

"I… you can't just-"

"Look, either you leave, or we will," Ethan said tiredly. When neither Scott nor Isaac made any kind of movement towards the door, he sighed, nodding to Danny.

"Let's get out of here." Danny shot a glare at Scott and Isaac on his way to the door, Ethan with a hand rested on his waist as they walked. Scott was still standing, in complete shock. _Get your own room. _It hadn't been malicious. It wasn't some stupid slur. He'd said it like it was an actual suggestion. But why the hell would he-

The creak of the door snapped Scott out of it, and suddenly the disappointment on Isaac's face was piercing him, spurring him into action.

"Ethan," he called out, catching the door just before it closed. "Wait."

* * *

The Alpha didn't turn around, but he did stop walking. He whispered something in Danny's ear, and his boyfriend nodded, somewhat reluctantly, kissing his cheek before he continued on his own down the stairs.

"What do want, McCall?"

"Answers." Scott said. "Look, that creature- the Darach- you knew who she was. I just want to know how. And why. Why were you there?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Ethan scoffed.

"Well, I'm not," Scott said. "Look, she killed Boyd. Do you get that? She killed him. I want her gone. I want the dying to stop. From the looks of it, you guys aren't exactly on good terms with her either. Maybe we want the same thing. Maybe we should be…helping each other out on this one."

Ethan was listening now. "Listen. All you need to know about the Darach is that she's bad news. She's the one who's been sacrificing all these people. You and Derek, you like to think of us as the Bad Guys. You've got it wrong. The Darach is more ruthless than Deucalion himself. She's hurting the innocent. She's a murderer."

"She's our English teacher."

Ethan almost smiled. "Why do you think we were in that stupid class? We were instructed to keep an eye on her."

"Well, nice work," Scott said, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. "She killed Boyd, and she nearly got to Lydia. You'd think at least Aiden might give a damn about that."

"We can't stop her every time," Ethan hissed. "And our priorities are with the pack."

"Really? So if it had been Danny-"

"Don't." Ethan stopped him. "Don't talk about things you don't understand."

"He's my friend," Scott said evenly. "So I think I will. And I think you should know that if anything happens to him, I will come after you."

"Nice thought. But I don't intend on anything happening to Danny." He was honest, and Scott was relieved.

"One more thing," Scott said. "What does she want?"

"What?"

"The Darach. I mean, these are murders, but they aren't just murders. She's sacrificing them. That means she wants something, right? So what is it?" He narrowed his eyes when Ethan didn't respond. "It's something to do with Deucalion, isn't it? She's a threat to him?" He guessed.

"She's a threat to all of us," Ethan warned. "You too. Don't think you and your friends are safe here."

Scott thought of Boyd. "I know my friends aren't safe."

"You must know, then, the only way for that to change," Ethan said. He came closer, almost whispering. "Join the Pack."

"That isn't going to happen."

"Just think about it, will you?" Ethan said imploringly. Unlike Deucalion, he wasn't threatening Scott. "Look, Deucalion gets what he wants. That's just the way it is. He wants you in the Pack- and that's for a reason, Scott. You'd fit in here. You'd be important. You'd be able to keep everyone safe."

"Yeah, because killing all my friends to get into his lousy pack leaves me with tonnes of people whose safety I care about," Scott said sarcastically.

Ethan shook his head. "Maybe you won't have to. Maybe he'll just let you in. There's something about you, Scott- when he talks about you. It's different to how he sees the rest of us. He needs you to be in the Pack. He needs you on his side. I think it'll be a lot safer for everyone if you just do as he asks. And with you on our side, the Darach will be brought down a lot faster."

"I don't understand," Scott said, shaking his head. "Why does he want me?"

Ethan shrugged, and was about to say something else when he caught sight of someone over Scott's shoulder. Aiden- arms folded across his chest, looking extremely unimpressed. Ethan sighed, shaking his head.

"Think about it, McCall," he said seriously. He turned on his heel without another word.

Scott dragged a hand over his face- anxious and angry despite having finally gotten some answers out of Ethan. He glanced back to where Aiden had been a moment ago, but he seemed to have vanished when Ethan did. It was then that he noticed Isaac standing in the doorframe.

"So, Deucalion wants you in the Alpha Pack," he stated blandly.

"I guess so."

Isaac fidgeted. "Scott, I think we need to talk about it," he said finally, and Scott spun around sharply, eyes wide.

"Talk about…" he trailed off, a thousand things that they could possibly have to talk about flashing before his eyes, and a feeling of dread came over him.

Isaac came to stand in front of him, serene as he had ever been.

"Your eyes," he said heavily. "Your red eyes. You said your boss might know something about it- well, I think we should find out. Now."

* * *

**Please do review and tell me what you think, guys ****. Any act of following, favouriting, of feedback-ing is greatly appreciated. Good luck surviving the finale! Something tells me we're going to need it…**


End file.
